


I Was Made For Loving You

by saldtedeggo



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-10-18 09:28:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17578280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saldtedeggo/pseuds/saldtedeggo
Summary: — previously titled “30 ILYs”Even across multiple universes, there's nothing quite like the love shared between Chanyeol and Baekhyun.Or, alternatively: an anthology of one-shots that depict this love, or at least tries to.





	1. In a blissful sigh as you fall asleep

**Author's Note:**

> my first chonbike fic omg 
> 
> first off i wanna apologize for any typographical errors, grammar mistakes, etc. wrote this using my phone since our laptop is whack. 
> 
> secondly, im sorry this is so short i promise the next one will be longer. and slower. and better planned out.
> 
> thirdly, pls stay with me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chanyeol needs sleep and Baekhyun is there to help him

_In a blissful sigh as you fall asleep;_

“God,” Chanyeol groans. He presses the heels of his palm against his eyes, frustrated and quite frankly, exhausted. He just wants to sleep, but the assignment due tomorrow disagrees with him.

“Giving up yet?” Baekhyun asks, boredly flipping through his magazine. “You can just half-ass the essay if you're that tired.”

Almost whimpering, Chanyeol throws his pencil on the desk and makes his way across the room to his bed, flopping down face down beside Baekhyun.

“You know,” Baekhyun hums, his other hand still skimming through the latest issue of Good Housekeeping, “when you asked me if I wanted to sleep over, I thought we'd watch a movie or something. I already had it pictured—me, you, a blanket fort, a bowl of chocolate popcorn, laughing our guts out at The Notebook. I didn't expect this—” he gestures at Chanyeol's messy desk “—at all.”

Chanyeol groans again. He turns to lie on his back and stares at the ceiling, covered with glow-in-the-dark plastic stars that Baekhyun gave him for his birthday last month. “Fuck, I'm sorry. I honestly forgot I had homework due. I'm officially the worst best friend ever.”

“Yeah, you are.”

Chanyeol scoffs, pushing him slightly. “You're not supposed to agree with me, you jerk.”

Baekhyun laughs. “It's fun to bully you, Yeol. Your face turns into a tomato.”

“It does not!”

“Sure, okay. You can't even see your face from here.”

“Am I a good-looking tomato at least?” Chanyeol asks, voice heavy with sleep. His eyes are already too tired to keep themselves open, but he doesn't want to fall asleep. At least not yet. So he hums to let Baekhyun know he's still awake.

He hears Baekhyun let out a disgusted sound. “No, you're not. Who even says you're good-looking?”

“My mom.”

“But she's your mom. Of course she'd say that. She's practically obligated to say that at least once a day.”

Chanyeol opens his eyes for a moment, reaches out to land a perfect smack right between Baekhyun's eyebrows, then laughs at his squeal. “You calling my mom a liar, punk?”

“Yah, Chanyeol, you know your hands are heavy. Don't go around smacking tiny people,” Baekhyun rubs the spot between his eyebrows, annoyed but also endeared.

“Don't go around bullying tall people, then,” Chanyeol retorts. He closes his eyes again, not bothering to hear Baekhyun's response. Then he remembers his assignment—and honestly, he has half a mind to just give up. Fuck science high schools and their merciless workload. Fuck school. His body needs sleep and he's already gone 24 hours without it.

He almost drifts off to sleep when Baekhyun slaps his shoulder. He jerks awake, sitting up. “What was that for?”

“You haven't finished your assignment, asshole. You can sleep when you're done,” Baekhyun mutters disapprovingly, like a mother disappointed in her child.

Chanyeol squints at him. “You've been spending too much time with my mom. She's rubbing off on you.” He moves closer to sniff at Baekhyun, who immediately swats him away. “God, you smell like her!”

_“Shut your trap, Park Chanyeol.”_

“You even sound like her,” Chanyeol shudders. When he sees Baekhyun look at him with murder in his eyes, he raises his arms in surrender and stands to walk to his desk. And upon seeing his messy papers scattered on his desk, he immediately wants to start crying.

Feeling weighed down, he comes back to bed. He ignores Baekhyun's complaints about his unfinished homework because honestly, he could care less. When Baekhyun stops trying to push him away, he sighs in relief and wraps an arm around the other's waist. He holds him closer. He ignores the warm feeling in his chest when he feels Baekhyun run his fingers through his hair again. He almost cries when he stops.

Sleep deprivation is a bitch and it's fucking with his emotions. That, or maybe it's being this close to Baekhyun and Baekhyun humming softly and Baekhyun's delicate, slender fingers massaging his scalp and Baekhyun's peach body lotion and Baekhyun, Baekhyun, Baekhyun.

The proximity and intimacy and overall 24 fucking hours without a decent good night's sleep is tiring him. Plus that awful practical research assignment he knows he's never finishing.

He can't even bring himself to think about school, because he likes where he is right now. Beside his best friend. Beside the only boy his heart does somersaults for. Beside Byun Baekhyun, who most likely doesn't even feel the same way.

But, okay, yeah, as much as Chanyeol wants to tell, as much as he's desperate to let out his innermost feelings for the boy beside him, he doesn't do anything. He doesn't want to do anything. He doesn't want to lose him, even if it means relieving himself of the ache in his chest that has been weighing him down for months.

So he settles for this. Park Chanyeol is okay with this. He's okay with Baekhyun smoothing his hair, easing the tension in his head. He's okay with Baekhyun being this close to him, even though he's afraid he'll hear the wild hammering of his heart. He's okay with Baekhyun resting his arm over his shoulders when they're sitting beside each other, because that's the only time he could reach them. He's okay with Baekhyun hanging out with other girls and boys because, really, Chanyeol is _not_ the only friend he has.

He's gonna get a headache if he doesn't stop thinking.

“Hey, Yeol,” He hears Baekhyun's soft noise but doesn't bother opening his eyes. He might cry if he did. “Are you gonna sleep?”

Chanyeol nods curtly.

“Okay, then. I'll turn off the lights later, okay? Good night. Love you.”

Chanyeol almost jerks awake. He calms his heart—at least he tries to. He sighs as a soft smile breaks out on lips. _“Yeah, love you too.”_

He's okay with this. He has to be. Unable to fend it off any longer, he lets sleep take him to better places—in a certain boy's arms, soft lips grazing over his forehead.


	2. With no space left between us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chanyeol and Baekhyun are both hungover and their friends are too, just dumber.

Chanyeol wakes up with a start. He squints as sunlight rushes in through his window, blinding him momentarily. When his eyes adjust to the brightness, he sits up, throwing the covers off him. He slept in his clothes from yesterday—yesterday? What did he do?

He seldom goes out in leather jeans and sleeveless fitted tees. And he almost never wears his cologne—it smells too masculine—and he _never_ wears eyeliner, not even when Sehun forces him to.

Which means he was either possessed by a demonic entity, or he got too drunk to stop his own friends from ruining his human dignity.

Which would explain the headache. And the smell of puke from his restroom. And the forty notifications on his phone.

“I need better friends,” he mutters. He massages his temples. He lies back down and grimaces at his now throbbing head.

He glances at the digital clock on his nightstand and curses under his breath. How did he manage to drink on a school night? And he's already missed _two_ classes.

Fuck, he's fucked.

He's going kill all eight of them. It doesn't matter if Baekhyun took hapkido as a kid and would probably kick his ass the first two seconds into the fight. It doesn't matter that Kyungsoo would _most likely_ play dirty and throw a sock-covered rock at him. It doesn't matter because he's going to kill them, and then himself.

His phone goes off, _I Can Do Anything_ blasting off the four corners of his dorm room. Chanyeol glares at the screen as messages from his friends flood their group chat.

 

 **B_hundred_hyun:** i have the worst hangover im never drinking with any of u ever again

 **Kjongdae:** ugh same

 **SeokMyBalls:** saned

 **SeokMyBalls:** *samen

 **SeokMyBalls:** *same

 **SeokMyBalls** : fuck

 **JustDoIt:** i had a fun SOBER night

 **JustDoIt** : hehe

 **NiniBear:** i woke up halfnaked

 **NiniBear** : kyungsoo explain

 **JustDoIt:** …….

 **B_hundred_hyun:** fuck off lustbirds. in this house we do not tolerate gay pda

 **Cutexing:** Had a gr8 time!!!!!!!! watching all ur drunk asses was intoxicating enough

 **Kjongdae:** can the three individuals NOT SUFFERING FROM A DEADLY HANGOVER pls not tease or speak or breathe

 **Kjongdae:** because i SWEAR

 **Kjongdae:** yall dont get rights. not today

 **KimNumberOne:** someones got their panties in a twist lol

 **SeokMyBalls:** fucj you junmyeon you said you'd drink and you left us for dead

 **KimNumberOne:** i have CLASS

 **SeokMyBalls:** so do we you dipshit whatever happened to your “we are one” bullshit

 **NiniBear:** stop hyung you've hurt his feelings

 **SeokMyBalls** : thats what he gets for leaving his friends behind, his disloyal ass lmao

 **NiniBear:** he just left our dorm looking like he's about to cry

 **SeokMyBalls:** fuck

 **Kjongdae:** well that was entertaining

 **Cutexing:** yall are cute uwu

 

Chanyeol smiles at his friends’ antics, his anger quickly evaporating. He can never stay mad at them. He hates it.

 

 **B_hundred_hyun:** yo siwon's got a friend over and they're having fun

 **B_hundred_hyun:** by fun i mean they're havinf sex

 **SeokMyBalls:** JUNMYEON IS CRYINF LMAO

 **B_hundred_hyun:** where can i crash i feel ALONE

 **Kjongdae:** not here. minseok and i are trying to calm junmyeon down he's having a breakdown

 **JustDoIt:** and whose fault is that

 **SeokMyBalls:** shut up kyungsoo

 **SeokMyBalls:** unless you want me to make u cry too

 **JustDoIt:** i dare you

 **B_hundred_hyun:** IS CHANYEOL ONLINE

 **B_hundred_hyun:** CHANYEOLLIE CAN I COME OVER I'M MENTALLY SCARRED FOR LIFE

 **FruitfulOne:** you live across the hall baek

 **FruitfulOne:** p.s. whoever dressed me up in this whack ass 90s punk getup, once i know who you are you're DEAD

 **B_hundred_hyun:** it was me you giant oaf

 **B_hundred_hyun:** and i did u a favor. Plus it was just one night where u finally let go of ur inhibitions and acted like a true college student

 **B_hundred_hyun** : yeol im coming over. five minutes

 **NiniBear:** yeah hyung we weren't gonna let u party in ur ugly ass sweater and ripped jeans

 **NiniBear:** plus u looked hot if i weren't dating soo i'd definitely tap that ass

 **JustDoIt:** i dare you, fucker

 **NiniBear:** i said IF

 **FruitfulOne:** DID I EVEN CONSENT

 **SeokMyBalls:** quit overreacting you big bitch

 **FruitfulOne:** :-(

 

Just then, Chanyeol hears rapid-fire knocking on his door. He groans as he stands, stretching his back and groaning again as his bones crack pleasantly. He moves to open his door, finding a disheveled and equally hot Baekhyun leaning against the doorframe.

Immediately he feels as if all the air escaped his lungs. He stops and stares at his best friend. Baekhyun’s wearing red leather pants and a mesh crop top. And soft ember-red eye shadow. And—wow, he looks—

“Hey sexy. Like what you see?” Baekhyun smirks. Before Chanyeol can answer, Baekhyun pushes him aside, making his way to the four-poster bed and then flopping down. He drapes his right arm over his eyes. “My head feels like it's gonna split open.” He gestures at the window. “Shut the damn blinds, Park.”

Chanyeol does what he's told, then moves to squeeze himself beside Baekhyun. The bed can barely fit the two of them lying down on their backs so Chanyeol lies on his left side. His eyes graze over the soft rise and fall of Baekhyun's chest, his senses suddenly on hyperdrive, a result of being within close proximity with him.

“Whose fucking idea was it last night?” Chanyeol asks gruffly.

“I...I actually don't remember,” Baekhyun mutters.

“I bet it was Sehun,” Chanyeol hears Baekhyun make a noncommittal noise of agreement. “I mean, he's the only one capable of coercing us to go out on a school night. That demon.”

“He's lucky I only have Algebra today.”

“Don't you have a quiz though?”

A moment of silence. Then, a curse. “Fuck. I'm killing him.” Baekhyun opens his phone, typing rapidly into it.

 

 **B_hundred_hyun:** @OohSehun you're dead

 **B_hundred_hyun:** i missed an algebra quiz and if i get a failing grade you're dead ffucking meat

 **OohSehun:** i jist fuckinf woke up and this is what i get

 **OohSehun:** i pray for u guys everynguhr and thisbis what i get

 **OohSehun:** and its not like you care about algebra anyway. Who even does

 **JustDoIt:** literally everyone skipped class today baekhyun you're not special

 **NiniBear:** but you're special to me, hyung ;-)

 **JustDoIt:** smooth but not creamy. ilu tho <3

 **B_hundred_hyun:** stop the pda you GAYS im bitter and offended

 **JustDoIt:** go be bitter somewhere else then

 **JustDoIt:** arent u at chanyeol's

 **FruitfulOne:** he's hogging up the space i regret inviting him over

 **B_hundred_hyun:** stop complaining i know you like it you yoda looking headass

 **FruitfulOne:** the disrespect

 **FruitfulOne:** in MY house

 **OohSehun:** when are you guys gonna date

 

Beside Chanyeol, Baekhyun snorts. “If they only knew…”

“Should we tell them, then?”

“Nah, it's more fun to let them guess.”

 

 **FruitfulOne:** pls i want to be with baekhyun the same way you want to be with junmyeon

 **B_hundred_hyun:** unless of course you secretly WANT TO

 **OohSehun:** every day i find one more reason to dump your asses.

 **OohSehun:** why would i want to date junmyeon he's old

 **KimNumberOne:** of all the negative adjectives to describe me this takes the fucking cake kid. I am not old

 **OohSehun:** you literallt dress like a grandpa

 **KimNumberOne:** at least i dress better than you

 **Kjongdae:** he does

 **SeokMyBalls:** he does

 **NiniBear:** he does

 **Cutexing:** yeah he dies

 **Cutexing:** oops *does

 **JustDoIt:** oh WORD he just insulted u by insinuating that u dress worse than a grandpa

 

Baekhyun laughs, a sweet infectious sound that makes Chanyeol _feel_ things. Chanyeol can't help but laugh along with him.

 

 **OohSehun:** we're straying from the topic at hand. Which is baekhyun and chanyeol and the fact that chanyeol obviously has heart eyes for the other

 **OohSehun:** the poor boy

 **KimNumberOne:** maybe YOURE straying from the topic which is WHY ARE YOU SO ADAMANT ON HIDING THE FACT THATBWERE DATINF LMAO

 

Chanyeol gasps. “Oh my fucking god! I knew it!”

Baekhyun looks shocked. “Fuck,” he whispers in awe.

 

 **B_hundred_hyun:** LOL WHAT

 **Kjongdae:** LOL WHAT

 **SeokMyBalls:** WHAT

 **JustDoIt** : WHAT

 **NiniBear:** WHAT

 **Cutexing:** i knew it!

 **FruitfulOne:** SEHUN YOURE SMASHING JUNMYEON???????  SINXE WHEN

 **OohSehun:** oh he done did it

 **OohSehun:** junmyeon you little fucj

 **KimNumberOne:** call me hyung you disrespectful ass

 **Kjongdae:** i bet that's junmyeon's kink

 **SeokMyBalls:** i did not need that image

 **NiniBear:** too late

 

Both Chanyeol and Baekhyun burst out laughing. They laugh so hard—because the situation really is funny—that tears escape from their eyes and they can't breathe anymore.

“I can't believe they're dating,” Baekhyun wipes the tears in his eyes using Chanyeol's sheets. “I just can't fucking believe it.”

Chanyeol laughs again. “I don't think any of us can.”

“It's just...Junmyeon. And Sehun. They're together. They're _together_ together.”

“I know, right? It doesn't make sense at all!”

“But,” Baekhyun concedes, “they look good together. Perfect.”

“Just unexpected.”

Baekhyun smiles. “The best things in life are always unexpected. Don't you agree?”

Chanyeol scoots even further into Baekhyun's side. “I mean, sometimes they're not. Take surprise quizzes for once; nobody thinks they're the best.”

“Not for you, though.”

“No, because I'm smart.”

Baekhyun playfully smacks his arm. “Your ego is showing.”

“You can't even disagree with me,” Chanyeol retorts. He checks his phone again. “Oh, Lord. They're in a pandemonium in there.”

Baekhyun chuckles, and reaches over to grab Chanyeol's phone. He discards it to the side, where it lands with a soft thump amongst Chanyeol's things. “I came over to cuddle, Yeol. C'mere.”

“I'm as close as I can possibly get, Baekkie. Perhaps if you lost weight….”

Baekhyun pushes the giant away, faux offence written on his face. “You are _not_ calling me fat, you asshole.”

“I was only joking, baby,” Chanyeol grins at him. He locks an arm around his small boyfriend, hugging him until there's _no space left between them._ “You know I'd still love you regardless. If your body weight doubles, then so will my feelings for you.”

“Aw,” Baekhyun coos. “You get cheesy when you're hungover.”

“I'm not hungover anymore because you're the best hangover cure that exists.”

“Okay, ew. Stop.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like i have to explain this: there is no definitive plot in this. At most, this is just a collection of one-shots. So if you're confused why they're high school students last chapter and they're suddenly in college — theres ur explanation uwu.
> 
> I'm sorry for any confusion just know that there is no linear plot here and it's all just short glimpses into chanyeol and baekhyun's lives as actual fucking soulmates.
> 
> But this is not a soulmate au.
> 
> Also: sorry this is messy and i did say that this'd be well planned but its not :((((( this kinda turned into a chatfic(?) so im sorry for that too
> 
> Follow me on the twitters: @614fluff


	3. A whisper in the ear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chanyeol is love—and home—sick and Baekhyun gets a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I did doc!Baekhyun some justice. This is 3.5k worth of fluff and took me only a night to write. Unedited. Enjoy ~\\(≧▽≦)/~

When Baekhyun's shift ends at exactly six a.m., he finds it hard to resist locking himself in one of the empty rooms on the fifth floor and just sleep there until his next shift. 

But he can't—it's against hospital protocols to sleep while on duty. And while  _ technically _ his shift's already ended, he can't bring himself to do it. Even though he secretly really wants to.

So with heavy feet and even heavier eyelids he tries his best to stay awake long enough to hail a taxi to his apartment building. He has a car, but he doubts it's safe for him to drive. He's close to collapsing.

He's been awake for approximately seventy-two hours now, not counting the fifteen-minute naps every other hour. He  _ has _ worked this long before, but that was as a resident. Now, he's a doctor; but it feels like it's still his first night shift.

The first taxi he sees is the one that takes him home. If it weren't for his white coat, he's sure the driver would've mistaken him for a drunkard with the way he slurred his words. 

“Should I drive all the way in?” The driver asks, glancing at the rearview mirror. 

“Yes, please.”

The rest of the drive is quiet and Baekhyun seizes this chance to nap once again. 

\----

He wakes ten minutes later as the vehicle comes to a halt in front of his apartment building's lobby. Baekhyun reaches into his bag and pays his fare, muttering a brief “good morning” to the driver. 

He barely hears what the driver says to him as he immediately makes his way inside the lobby and into one of the elevators.

It takes all the strength within him to not collapse on the floor. His body is incredibly heavy with fatigue and he decides then and there that the shower he planned to have would just have to wait until the next morning. 

He makes his way to his room where he flops face down onto the soft duvet, groaning in relief. 

Baekhyun loves his job. He really does. He loves being a doctor;it's been his dream since he was a child. Well, not really. Five-year-old Baekhyun wanted so badly to become a superhero, but as he grew up he decided to just become the next best thing—a doctor. 

He can't actually remember the exact reason behind his decision. All he  _ can _ remember, though, is this desire to help people—to save them—that later grew on to become a calling. 

Being a doctor surely suits him.

Being stressed out, sleep-deprived and heavily reliant on instant noodles does not. 

It's only seven-thirty in a lovely Monday morning, but Baekhyun already feels like the fatigue he's feeling could last him a whole year. 

So he lets himself pass out, not bothering to change into more comfortable clothing.

He ends up sleeping for sixteen hours. 

\----

Baekhyun wakes to the sound of his ringtone going off. On any other day he'd pay no mind to the incessant noise, but it's the ringtone he uses for a specific contact—so despite still being sleepy, he uses all the strength left in his arms to rub his eyes awake and reach for the phone in his bag. 

He opens his phone, and slides the tab to  _ confirm _ . “Hey.”

“Oh shit, were you sleeping?” Chanyeol's voice on the other ends crackles through the static, but Baekhyun can hear the concern etched into it and feels softs at the sound of it. 

“I was,” Baekhyun says, stifling a yawn. He fails. “But I needed to wake up anyways, so thanks for calling.”

Chanyeol picks up on the lie, though. “Are you sure though?”

“What kind of question is that?” Baekhyun sits up to check the alarm clock on his bed stand. “God, it's eleven p.m. already?”

Chanyeol whistles. “Damn, son. How long have you been sleeping?”

Baekhyun blinks. “Honestly? I don't want to know.” He raises his right arm and sniffs at his armpit. “I need a bath, I said I'd take a shower when I get home, but it's already too late for that.”

“It's never too late for a shower,” Chanyeol tells him. “Plus, you need it. I can practically smell you from here.”

Baekhyun snorts. He stands, stretches his limbs briefly, and makes his way to the bathroom. “Yeah, that's because you've got a big ugly nose.”

“Well, you know what they say about men with big noses…”

“Fuck off, Park,” Baekhyun puts him on speaker then places his phone on the sink. He removes his watch, strips off his scrubs and Gudetama socks, and steps into the shower. 

Even inside the shower with the semi-warm water cascading down his tired body, he still hears Chanyeol's deep chuckle. 

“Anyway,” Baekhyun starts. “Why'd you call? Aren't you busy over there?” Chanyeol is a successful solo artist, travelling overseas for promotion for his second album. He's been abroad for about two months now, and Baekhyun feels his absence stronger with everyday that passes by without him by his side. 

_ Their _ apartment feels too empty without him.

“Is it a crime to call my boyfriend and tell him how much I've missed him?” Chanyeol teases, amusement evident in his voice.

“You ought not to say anything that does  _ things _ to my heart, Park. I'm too young to die of a heart attack.”

“Ah, but a single kiss from me could bring you back to life instantly.”

Baekhyun closes his eyes as a warm feeling grows in his chest. His heart is beating so fast that he has to actually  _ clutch _ his chest in an attempt to calm it down. 

Honestly. Even after six years of dating, Chanyeol still has that effect on him. It's absurd. 

“It's a wonder that you're an award-winning songwriter, honestly.” Baekhyun says. He finishes his routine quickly, turning the shower off and quickly wrapping himself in his robe. He takes his phone with him as he exits the bath and walks towards the kitchen. He grabs the kettle to heat some water for his tea. “How are you, babe? Have you eaten yet?”

“I'm fine. Just tired,” Chanyeol answers. Baekhyun hears the ruffling of some papers; he assumes his boyfriend is on the process of composing new songs. “And Junmyeon hyung treated the team with dinner, so yeah, I ate good.”

“I'm glad to know they're feeding you.”

“And you? Please don't tell me you've only been relying on instant ramen.”

Baekhyun bites his lower lip. “I'm not saying anything you don't want to hear.”

Chanyeol sighs. “When I'm getting home, I'm cooking for you. Every day. Every breakfast, lunch, dinner, midnight snack. If it means going to your work and personally delivering your food, I'll do it.”

“I don't want you to burn down our apartment, so please don't.”

“Shush, you like being spoiled,” Chanyeol counters. “I just don't wanna come home and find that you've been reduced to a pile of skin and bones just because you're too busy overworking yourself to death to even bother looking out for your body.”

The kettle screeches, and Baekhyun turns it off. He pours scalding hot water into his puppy mug and then finds himself a bag of peppermint tea. 

He walks back to his room, where he sits in one of the bean bags scattered inside. “Well, it's my job, Yeol. Overworking is part of it.”

“It really isn't.”

Baekhyun is only slightly annoyed, but annoyed nonetheless. Why is he acting like he knows better than him? Maybe it's all these night shifts, maybe he's just tired, but light anger bubbles in his chest, replacing the warmth that lived in there not five minutes ago. “So it's okay if you pull all-nighters for  _ your _ work, but suddenly it's not when I do the same?”

Even Chanyeol is surprised at his tone. “That's not—you're missing my point, Baek. I just don't want you getting sick, is all.”

“I'm not,” Baekhyun insists. “I know how you get when it comes to my health and all. I just wish you'd—I don't know—trust me to look after myself.”

“I just find it ironic how you've been in the medical field for  _ years  _ and you still have yet to let go of your unhealthy college diet.”

“We're not talking about my obsession with instant noodles on the phone, Park.” 

“Okay, I'm sorry,” Chanyeol laughs, a small infectious sound that makes its way to evaporate any traces of anger in Baekhyun's heart. “We'll talk about it when I get home, then.”

And then Baekhyun's heart aches. “When, though?”

On the other end, Chanyeol sighs again. “I don't know, baby. They're not telling me anything these days,” he explains. “But I'll be home soon.”

Baekhyun doesn't know what he means by  _ soon _ —a few weeks? A month? He is silent for a while. He plays with the loose thread on the sleeve of his pyjamas, mind running around with unwanted thoughts. 

“Baby?” Chanyeol's voice is soft. Baekhyun misses hearing it close to him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” Baekhyun repeats. He's getting sleepy again. He yawns, purposefully loud to get his message across. “Hey, you big puppy. Sing me to sleep?”

“It's two a.m. here, if anything,  _ you _ should be singing me to sleep. Your voice is much better.”

“But I asked you first,” Baekhyun argues. “I've got another night shift tomorrow, at least let me have this.”

“Seriously?” Chanyeol sounds incredulous. “They're literally overworking you to  _ death _ , and you're telling me not to worry about your health?”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes at his boyfriend's words. “I'm a doctor on top of being a grown ass man, Yeol. I can handle double night shifts like a pro.”

He could practically picture the disapproval on Chanyeol's face. “Don't make it a hobby, Baek. I'm telling you, if you don't talk to your superiors, then I will.”

“Yeol, it wouldn't be fair to my colleagues if I started taking less shifts than them,” Baekhyun feels irritation grow in his chest again. God he needs to sleep.

“But—”

“Okay, I'll talk to the director the next time there's a meeting, okay? Is that enough?”

Baekhyun can vividly imagine his boyfriend's endearing grin of victory. “Good enough,” Chanyeol hums happily. 

“Didn't you say it was two a.m. there?”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol stifles a yawn, but Baekhyun catches it. 

“You should sleep, baby,” Baekhyun tells his boyfriend, voice as soft as it can be. “I'm sure you've got a whole schedule tomorrow.”

Baekhyun knows he has. Being a solo artist on top of being a top earner at his company, Chanyeol is always a busy man. There is never a time where he's  _ not _ busy. And even if it does sometimes tire him out with the both of them having tight schedules, he knows he wouldn't have it any other way.

They're both blessed to have each other. They're both happy with each other. And that's enough for them.

“No, I don't,” Chanyeol says. “But I'm tired as fuck anyways so I'll probably just spend the whole day in my bed passed out.”

“I wish you'd come home,” Baekhyun closes his eyes.  _ He's not gonna cry he's not gonna cry he's not gonna cry. _

Chanyeol is quiet on the other end. “I wish so, too, baby.”

Baekhyun is definitely going to cry because he misses Chanyeol so damn much it  _ hurts _ . His throat is tight with more unsaid words, but he knows they both need to sleep. 

He knows it's time to say goodbye. 

He doesn't want to hang up.

“Get some sleep, Yeollie. I know you want to.”

“...Okay,” Chanyeol relents. “Good night, baby.”

“Good night.” 

But in the end, it's Baekhyun who ends the call. He goes to bed not long after, hugging the pillow that still very much smells like his boyfriend. 

 

\---

 

Two days later, Baekhyun is making rounds when he hears someone call his name. 

“Hey, Byun!”

Baekhyun turns around. He spots one of his younger colleagues, Jongin, jogging towards him, almost knocking down a nurse. Baekhyun looks at him disapprovingly while Jongin looks ahead, apologetic. 

“It's against hospital policy to be running around the halls, Mr. Kim,” Baekhyun reprimands him.

“Keep talking like that, doc, and you'll sound  _ just _ like Director Soo Man,” Jongin teases the older.

Baekhyun hits him with his clipboard while Jongin laughs. “Yah! This kid!”

“Ow, ow! That hurt!” Jongin quickly dodges Baekhyun's efforts of beating him up. “Stop it!”

“I'll stop hitting you when you stop giving me attitude,” Baekhyun says through gritted teeth. “You're worse than Sehun, God. At least Sehun treats me better. When will you learn from him, huh?”

Jongin has the gall to look hurt. “When will  _ you _ learn not to compare your children with each other?”

“Fuck off, Jongin,” But Baekhyun laughs with him. “What were you such in a hurry about, anyway?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to eat dinner with us,” Jongin says. “Me, Soo, Sehun, Minseok and Minseok’s husband who I don't know the name of.”

“You mean Jongdae?”

Jongin nods. “That guy. And his friend. The one from China.”

“Oh, Yixing!”

“That's the one,” Jongin says. He checks his wrist watch. “Does seven-thirty sound any good?”

“I'll see,” Baekhyun says. 

“You better be there, doc,” Jongin warns him. “I already told Kyungsoo you'd go.”

“Hmm, I'm working tonight, though.”

Jongin rolls his eyes. “Nice try, doc. I had Minseok check your schedule for the month and your next p.m. shift isn't even until the twenty-fifth.”

“This whole situation is scaring me, honestly.”

Jongin claps his hand against Baekhyun's back, a knowing smile ghosting his lips. “Just be there, doc. Promise?”

Baekhyun sighs, defeated. “It's not like I have much of a choice anyway.”

 

\---

 

His day goes by far too quick for Baekhyun's liking. It's almost bad how smooth everything was going. He finished his rounds with no bumps, even Mr. Jeong (the grumpy middle-aged salesperson who's convinced his stomach ache needs chemotherapy) was especially nice with him today. 

It scares Baekhyun to the point that maybe….this is his last day on Earth. 

Mark him down as superstitious, but things were going too well to be real. 

Traffic was almost  _ nonexistent _ while he makes his way home, hands tight on the driving wheel, holding in his breath in anticipation of something, anything that seemed out of the blue.

And when he finally gets home, he almost flies up the stairs with how fast he goes. (The elevator was under repair.)

He considers cancelling on the dinner last minute, spending a solid thirty minutes arguing with himself, because he needs this dinner more than he think he does. It's been  _ weeks _ since his last proper meal, and though he's stubborn when it comes to his diet, he can't help but notice how much he's lost weight. He looks at his reflection in front of him and checks himself out. His pants—the form-fitting, mid-rise khakis he especially loves—look like they're about to slide down his body, and his collarbones, although naturally prominent, have gotten sharper. His cheeks look sunken, and his eyes look tired than usual. 

He looks like a ghost. 

He shakes the insecure thoughts away and fixes his hair. It's already too late take a shower so he might as well just brush up his curls. Which end up falling down to cover his forehead anyway. “Fuck it, you look gorgeous enough,” he tells himself.

He changes his clothes and shuffles into his pair of expensive sneakers that Chanyeol gave him for his birthday, which he only wore three times—excluding today.

Once he thinks he's done, he texts Jongin a quick  _ I'm on my way, save me a seat _ and rushes to leave, not forgetting to lock the door on his way out.

 

\----

 

Jongin texts him the address of the barbecue place they're eating at, and Baekhyun practically flies on the empty street with the speed he's going.

He may be breaking only a few laws, but for some reason he can't shake off the gut feeling that he  _ has _ to be there as quick as possible.

He can't explain it. He just has to. 

After he parks, it takes him a moment to calm down his nerves, because why is he being like this? It's just a simple dinner between friends. Friends he hasn't socialized with for a relatively long time, not since Chanyeol left for his trip. He tries the breathing exercises he learned from his mom and tries his hardest to quell the anxiety rising in his chest. 

He needs to get a grip, ASAP. 

So during the time it takes to walk from his car to the inside of the barbecue place, he controls his breathing and counts his steps. He does anything to ground him to reality. He shoves both of his hands into the pockets of his now-oversized trench coat, trying to bring warmth in them as it suddenly gets cold. 

He's  _ almost _ calm, he's  _ almost _ okay, but all his efforts come crumbling down when he sees him.

He sees the conspiratorially look on Jongin's eyes,, then Kyungsoo's knowing smile, then Minseok and Jongdae's shared smirks, then he sees Sehun and Junmyeon gulping down their beers while looking on in amusement, and then Yixing who's already eating and chewing with a smile on his lips…and then there's him.

Chanyeol with his broad back facing Baekhyun, but he can recognise those ears anywhere. He's dyed his hair a gorgeous shade between gray and white, and even in his huge hoodie and dark denim pants, his boyfriend looks so beautiful Baekhyun feels like he's drowning. 

And when he turns around, a smile gracing his lips and a certain twinkle in his eyes, Baekhyun all but loses it.

His feet do the work for him and—albeit wobbly—he makes his way to his boyfriend with open arms. Chanyeol stands and does the same, catching him quickly when the smaller almost falls. 

Baekhyun stumbles into his arms and almost cries at the familiar warmth engulfing him. 

There's pure, genuine happiness that rushes in his veins. And then there's something else that bubbles up in his chest. 

He pushes Chanyeol then hits him with weak fists. “You said you didn't know when you'd be back!”

Chanyeol laughs, quick to dodge his small boyfriend's attacks. “And I didn't! I—ow, Baek—I didn't actually know until a day after our phone call—stop pinching me!”

Baekhyun looks at Junmyeon who shrugs, then back at Chanyeol who's grinning like a lovesick fool. “You're here. You're actually here. I'm not dreaming?”

“No, baby.”

Baekhyun feels tears brimming his eyes and immediately hugs his giant boyfriend again, burying his face into the hard plane of the other's chest. He tries not to cry. He fails. “Fuck you, Park. I hate you so much.”

“Yeah, I'm sorry, Baek.” Chanyeol says, his voice low. His hands find themselves in Baekhyun's hair, and Baekhyun almost full-on sobs at the feel of it. “I'm sorry, please don't cry, baby…”

“I've missed you so much, Yeol,” Baekhyun says. “It's not the same without you.”

“It's not the same without you, either,” Chanyeol says, amused. He pulls apart from their hug and looks at his small boyfriend. “I'll try not to be away for so long next time. I'll talk with my manager, I promise.”

Baekhyun smiles before covering his face with his hands. “This is embarrassing, I can't believe I'm crying in public.”

“You still look pretty,” Chanyeol mutters. He engulfs him in a hug again, tighter than before, and  _ leans down against Baekhyun's ear to whisper, “I love you so much.” _

And Baekhyun almost cries again because he's missed hearing those words  _ in person _ and he feels like flying on pure euphoria. He feels giddy. If his heart was beating fast with anxiety ten minutes ago, it's beating fast for a whole nother reason now.

They break apart and Chanyeol is quick to wipe the fresh tears away from Baekhyun's face. “Let's eat, yeah? The others are waiting for us,” Chanyeol wraps his arm around the smaller and places his hand on his waist, guiding them towards their table. 

At the table, Baekhyun is greeted with teases and laughs and offers of wraps and expensive cuts of meats and cheap soju and beer—all Junmyeon's treat. Apparently, Junmyeon was the one who organized the entire surprise, working with Chanyeol's manager and then the rest of the boys tagged along.

Baekhyun forgives them easily. It doesn't take a lot to, really. He loves his friends too much to be angry with them for long. He apologizes for missing out a lot of dinners with them for the past three months. They're quick to forgive him too. 

And, in the end, as Chanyeol is drinking his beer and soju concoction, Baekhyun leans in to whisper, “I love you. You're coming home with me, right?” 

To which Chanyeol smiles, puts down his drink, and whispers back, “I'm already home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Djdjdjjdd is it ok ;-; pls let me know!!! Leave a comment!!!!!


	4. As an apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Baekhyun learns to forgive himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kkkkk this is unedited so if u see any typos or cringey grammar, im so sorry ><

Baekhyun feels his bones crack as he tries to sit up. He hasn't moved from his sleeping position for over twelve hours. He hasn't eaten, hasn't had a drop of water in him since yesterday. He hasn't had a proper meal since last week. He hasn't been _living_ since years ago.

His throat parched and his stomach growling, he stands up on wobbly feet. His hands grip on the steel frame of his bed to steady himself. He feels like he's seconds away from passing out.

And the moment he collides with the mattress, he does.

 

\---

 

_“Is appa still asleep?”_

_A tall man glances from his book to the little boy playing on the floor. “Yeah, baby. Why?”_

_“Because I want pancakes,” the boy answers, pouting, crossing his arms across his chest. “And no offense to you daddy, but you make bad pancakes. I want appa's pancakes.”_

_The man laughs, “No offense taken.” He closes his book and takes off his reading glasses, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Say, how about we wake appa up?”_

_The little boy perks up at the thought. He stands on his short legs, then runs off to the big room down the hall._

_The man chases after him, then laughs again as he hears the squeals of delight emanating from the big room._

 

\--

 

The next time he gains consciousness, he has no idea what time it is. Maybe it's early in the morning, maybe it's late in the evening, he doesn't care. It could be the end of the fucking world, but he won't even give two fucks.

He glances at the alarm clock on his bedstand, the neon numbers casting a bright haze in his rundown room.

And the window must be open, because a cold breeze drifts into the room, and suddenly all the layers of clothing Baekhyun has on him isn't enough. He shivers slightly. If he were healthy, if he ate properly and hydrated himself enough, if he went out more and smiled more and remembered less, he wouldn't be feeling this weak.

His body is failing him. Or more accurately, he's failing his body.

Baekhyun can't help the tears from overflowing as he reminds himself again and again what a useless piece of shit he is, for not even learning how to function as a human being, for not even _trying_.

He doesn't know which hurts the worst: holding in his sobs, or letting them wreck through his body. The more he holds it in, the more intense the pain in his chest becomes. But he hates hearing himself cry out loud; it reminds him further just how… meaningless his life has become.

He tries to calm himself down, breathing in and out and easing his heartbeat and swallowing down the bout of anxiety forming in his throat.

Baekhyun used to be lively. He used to smile at the world outside with enough charm to render the sun jobless. He used to radiate pure light, made everything around him glow with just his personality and his laugh. He used to be happy. And he used to _live_.

Now he's not doing a great job at it. And he thinks that maybe, yeah, he deserves it. He deserves every bit of punishment the universe rolls out against him.

Because everything that led to his current suffering is all his fault.

 

\---

 

Everyday Kyungsoo calls, and everyday Baekhyun ignores him. He doesn't have to answer the calls to know what the younger has to say. The concern alone overhwelms him every time.

Kyungsoo always calls him, and Baekhyun never answers, until one day he isn't given the freedom to ignore it.

Baekhyun wakes to the sound of footsteps creaking across the wooden floor and feels a finger poke against his side, as if testing to see if he's still alive. And how he wishes he weren't.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo sits on the empty space beside Baekhyun, his weight creating a slight shift on the mattress. “Wake up, Baek.”

Baekhyun sits up then. He glances at his digital clock; it's 12pm. It's too early, he thinks. Kyungsoo gently opens the blinds, letting the bright morning light peek in the room.

“How are you?” Kyungsoo asks him, voice as gentle as can be. Baekhyun knows he's trying his best. At Baekhyun's lack of response, Kyungsoo just smiles. It's small, but it's there. The younger offers the other a helping hand as Baekhyun stands, legs wobbly from underuse. “Have you eaten anything yet?”

They both make their way to the kitchen area, where Baekhyun sits gingerly on one of the stools. Kyungsoo takes off his shoulder bag and places it on the island counter, making his way to the fridge. He hums when he sees nothing edible inside.

“I take it as a no, then?”

Baekhyun lowers his head.

“Baek, when was the last time you ate something?” Kyungsoo's voice is stern, like a doting mother. Like _someone else_ he knows _._

Baekhyun looks up. “I guess… it's been weeks.”

Kyungsoo exhales sharply, closing the fridge. Baekhyun watches as the younger looks around, quietly but definitely judging the conditions Baekhyun has subjected himself in, and he can't help it, but he feels himself burn with shame.

“You're coming home with me,” Kyungsoo says suddenly; when Baekhyun looks into his eyes, he sees determination burn in them. “And I'm not taking no as an answer, Baek. You're coming with me whether you like it or not.”

“I don't want to be a burden on you and—” Baekhyun starts to protest, but the other cuts him off.

“Jongin won't mind,” Kyungsoo says. He walks closer to where Baekhyun is and grabs both of his hands, warming them slightly. “You can't keep living like this, Baek. It hurts us to see you like this. Me, Jongin, the others...what would _he_ say?”

Baekhyun's throat constricts at the thought. Blinking away any tears, he looks away. “I guess a few days won't hurt.”

“Make it a few weeks. Hell, make it a few months.” Kyungsoo urges. “Take as long as you want, just don't...trap yourself here.”

Baekhyun smiles at his best friend, ever so grateful for him, though still uncertain whether he deserves this kindness. The words almost choke him in his throat, but he says them nonetheless. “Thank you, Soo.”

Kyungsoo only smiles. The grip he has on the older's hands tighten. “Anytime, Baek.”

 

\---

 

The move from his ratty, one-bedroom apartment to Kyungsoo's four-bedroom isn't as rough as Baekhyun initially thought, and it's only in the car ride with Kyungsoo that Baekhyun realizes just how few his possessions are. He's emptied his closet and stuffed every shirt and every pants he's owned into a single duffle bag; his phone and tablet and chargers in a smaller one, along with other equally important shit— like his journal, the one he used to keep a record of his thoughts in (though he hardly ever uses it now since sleep has been keeping him busy.)

He remembers a time when he felt genuinely spoiled. A time when he spent money here and there without feeling the least bit guilty for indulging his materialistic lust. But back then, there was always something— _someone_ —who held him back from spending everything away.

Years ago, when a dark period loomed over his life, he gave in to impulse and decided, out of the blue, to give away everything he bought, everything he owned, to a secondhand shop, to a charity organization, to his mother back in Korea, to the homeless shelter downtown. He would've given _everything_ away had it not been for Kyungsoo who managed to literally smack some sense into him. (“you can't do that, hyung” “I deserve nothing” “you're an idiot, I won't hesitate to beat you up if you ever pull that shit again” “do it, I don't care”)

Maybe the recklessness and impulsiveness he exhibited all those years ago should've raised a red flag or two. Baekhyun can't blame Kyungsoo—or any of his friends—for the way he is now. God knows they tried. They tried to make him better, to help give his life some semblance of, well, life.

And Baekhyun knows it the way he knows the back of his hand that everything is his fault.

The events that led up to him becoming a shell of the person he used to be, and the inevitable suffering he'll have to endure in the future—it's all on him. Any help his friends offer him, he pushes away. He rejects it with kindness, with a certain tired calm that says with a warning, “I'll push you away further if you don't stop now.”

Baekhyun doesn't hate his friends for stopping. He wanted them to, anyway.

“Hey Baek,” Jongin calls out softly, interrupting Baekhyun from his thoughts. He watches as Jongin holds up two mugs by the handle, the ceramic clinking against each other. “I'm making hot chocolate, want some?”

Baekhyun tilts his head. “It's like, 5 in the afternoon.”

Jongin raises a brow playfully. “And what about it?”

“I think it's unhealthy.” Baekhyun says. The irony of what he just said doesn't escape him—what does _he_ know about health?

“Yeah, blame Kyungsoo for spoiling our kid.”

Baekhyun almost smiles as he hears small footsteps approaching them. _Speak of the small devil_ , he thinks, as little Haejoo smiles brightly up to his daddy.

“Are you making hot choco?” the five-year-old asks, pointing a chubby finger to one of the mugs Jongin is holding up. “Is that for me, daddy?”

And that's all it takes for Jongin's face to break into a wide grin. He places the two mugs on the marble counter. He kneels, and Haejoo all but runs into his outstretched arms, giggling and wrapping his arms around Jongin's neck as his daddy carries him and smothers his cheeks with kisses. “Of course, little bear.”

“Daddy! Not in front of uncle Baekkie!”

“You're my little bear, I'll kiss you whenever and wherever I want to.”

At this, Haejoo wrinkles his small nose in mild irritation. “How am I gonna get my hot choco if you keep kissing me, daddy?”

“You're right!” Jongin cheers. “My Haejoo is such a smart boy, isn't he, uncle Baekkie?”

Baekhyun snorts. “Sure, dad.”

Haejoo beams at his uncle. “Make hot choco for uncle Baekkie too, daddy. Hot choco means love, and it's good to share love.”

Baekhyun's heart almost melts at this. Just almost.

Jongin smiles at his son. Pride is practically emanating from him. “Sure will, little bear.” At this, Haejoo wiggles, wanting his feet to touch solid ground, and once they do he dashes off to his room.

The two men in the kitchen hear a door click shut. Baekhyun looks down on his interlocked fingers, heart in pieces after witnessing such a personal moment between father and son. Too personal, that it feels like it's a faint echo of something he once had.

And then he's remembering too much, his brain overloading with memories and the pain and anxiety; the tears come at him faster than the realization does.

Jongin is faster, too. He's at Baekhyun's side just as the smaller almost falls sideways. His hands are shaking, so he puts them against his face in order to try and control himself—but he just can't.

He can't. He hates breaking down, _especially_ in front of his friends. He hates to see them see him wilting like this, walls crumbling down like a house of cards.

Jongin's hands rub small circles on his back, and Baekhyun all but cries a little harder because—the sensation feels all too real that it brings back intimate memories of _someone_ he used to have.

His sobs are so loud he doesn't even hear Kyungsoo come in.

“What's wrong?” Kyungsoo asks his husband. Baekhyun can't see the exchange, but he knows Jongin's saying something about an _attack_.

Baekhyun tries to calm down. And he does after a few minutes, with Jongin's hands on his back and Kyungsoo's low humming near his ear.

He passes out not long after, exhausted from crying too much.

 

\----

 

The days melt into a dream-like haze for Baekhyun. It's like he's here, physically, but his mind is somewhere else. He interacts with the Kims and laughs at their jokes and tries his best to fit in with them. It feels weird to call his friends the _Kims_ ; it's like it was just yesterday they were all fooling around and dating and not married and with child. It feels even weirder to force himself into the family's dynamic.

Because despite being childhood friends with Kyungsoo and almost-brothers with Jongin, he feels like an outsider in their home.

He's out of place in their daily routine. Kyungsoo wakes up early in the morning, cooking everyone a hearty breakfast before going to work in the local hospital as a nurse. Jongin wakes up later on, helping Haejoo get ready for daycare, as well as leaving for his own job as a dance instructor in a prestigious arts school somewhere uptown.

Baekhyun doesn't have a job. He used to be a book editor at some publishing house, but when he got too sick in the head to be stable enough to work, he took a few days off, which ended up becoming a sick leave, which ended up with him voluntarily quitting his lifelong passion.

It was all his decision, and he's not exactly proud of it. Now he's living as a (welcome) guest in his friends’ home, leeching off of them like the parasite he is.

He's a burden. Always will be. That will never change. Baekhyun wants it to change, but he doesn't have the strength to will it so.

 

\---

 

“You need this, Baek.” Kyungsoo is desperate to ease the weight off his dearest friend's shoulders. His voice is almost like a plea. “I booked a session for you. I think it might help you.”

Baekhyun can't help but laugh. “You're asking me to talk to some stranger about...my problems.”

“Well, _strangers_ , actually,” Kyungsoo corrects him. “It's like an AA meeting, just not for alcoholics.”

“Because they're for fucked up people with real fucked up issues,” Baekhyun grits his teeth in annoyance. “I'm not—I'm _not_ fucked up, Soo.”

Kyungsoo only stares at him. “You can keep ignoring the situation all you want, Baek, but I won't stand idly by, watching you destroy your life like this. You deserve help, you _need_ it.”

“And what if I don't want to? Hmm?”

The look in the younger's eyes is that of pity. Baekhyun doesn't like it, not one bit. “Trust me. I know you want to get better.” Before Baekhyun argues with him, Kyungsoo cuts him off again. “You don't have to go to consecutive meetings, just every once in a while will do.”

Baekhyun sighs, rubbing his nape. “I...I don't know if I'm ready, Soo.”

“You'll know. Just give me the ok. I'll be there for you.”

“...Okay.”

 

\---

 

_“Do you think appa will like our gift, daddy?” the boy quietly asks the tall man in the driver's seat. The boy hugs a big wrapped box against his small chest._

_Beside him, the man chuckles, amused that this child is so worried his appa won't appreciate their carefully thought gift. Little does the boy know that his appa would graciously receive any gift the boy would offer him; that was how much he thought highly of his world, his little boy._

_“Of course, baby,” the man says. “What makes you think he won't?”_

_The boy is silent for a while. “I just think appa deserves the world. He does, doesn't he, daddy?”_

_The man hums in agreement._

_“I wanna give him the world. Can I give him the world?”_

_The man almost laughs at his boy's innocence.  “I know your appa wouldn't ask for anything more than you. You're already the best gift he's ever received.”_

_The boy wrinkles his nose. “I still wanna give him the world someday. You'll help me, won't you?”_

_“Of course.”_

_“Oh, daddy, I wish we'd get home sooner. I can't wait to see appa's face! And hear his voice! And feel his hugs!”_

_The man can only smile at his child. “Me too, baby. Me too.”_

 

\---

 

He goes to a Saturday session. Kyungsoo comes with him, almost goes inside the bookstore with him, but they find out that only registered individuals could get it.

“I'll wait for you in Minseok's café,” Kyungsoo tells the older, who can only offer a small smile and a curt nod in response. He waves him goodbye.

Baekhyun is painfully aware that he's alone.

Not technically, since there are seven more individuals in the room with him. But they're all just strangers to him. He doesn't know them personally, but he can sense the weight on their shoulders, the unshed tears in their eyes, and the heavy look of loss in their faces.

Baekhyun isn't a stranger to all those.

It's almost fifteen minutes later when a man enters the room, gentle-looking and serene, but Baekhyun feels like there's more to his calm features than meets the eye.

“Hello, my name is Mr. Lee, and I'll be heading today's session.”

The rest of the group, including Baekhyun, mutter a robotic response. Mr. Lee doesn't seem any bit disturbed by the general lack of enthusiasm.

“Today's session doesn't have to be any grand,” Mr. Lee tells the group as he sits on one of the empty chairs. “I won't be talking much, not like the last time. Today, I'll be giving each and every one of you the freedom to talk.”

When he's met with silence, the man continues on. “I'm giving you guys the opportunity to talk more of your grief, your losses. Talking about it, letting all that weight out of your chest—that's one step into the process of moving on. Of course, I'm not going to force you if you don't want to. Just know that I—we—are all here to listen.

“We'll stick with the format we always use,” Mr. Lee says, voice gentle as always. “State your name, your age, and the reason why you're here.”

Mr. Lee then motions for anyone to start the session. Baekhyun's palms are sweaty. He wants this to be over with. He's afraid he might not make it through.

“My name is George, I'm forty-two, and I'm here because I lost my only daughter to leukemia.”

“My name is June, I'm twenty, and my best friend killed herself three weeks ago, and I'm not okay. And that's why I'm here.”

“I'm Penelope, thirty-seven. My husband got drunk and sped off to his death on the highway last October.”

“My name is Key, I'm twenty-nine...my...my boyfriend killed himself…”

All these people, Baekhyun thinks, have loved and lost and some have never loved again. His heart, though hurting from his own pain, hurt even more for them.

It takes only a few minutes for half the people in the room to start crying. And how can they not? Everyone has suffered the same way Baekhyun has, to some varying degrees, but ultimately they're all in the same room for the same reasons: loss of a loved one, and loss of love.

When it's Baekhyun's turn to speak, he finds that he can't do it. He can't say the words that restrict the air in his lungs, that have an iron grip on his heart.

And before he knows it, he's running.

He doesn't know where he's going, but he's running anyway. He runs to forget the group therapy. He forgets Mr. Lee, he forgets George, June, Penelope, Key. He forgets the grief written on each of their faces because it's a painful reflection of his own.

He forgets Kyungsoo and his generosity and his kindness and selflessness. He forgets Jongin and the genuine pity in his eyes that sickens Baekhyun every time. He forgets their little Haejoo—mostly because the boy reminds him so much of the boy he had...and lost.

Most of all, he tries to forget _him_.

His darling angel. The love of his life. The one who took his breath away every time he entered the room. The one who made sure he never spent anymore money than he should, the one who put him in check, who gave him stability and security and loved him endlessly, unconditionally.

He tries to forget his dimpled smile, his bright eyes, his _twinkling_ laugh, his deep voice. He tries to forget the intensity of his love, which he felt with every song he wrote, with every note and every tune of his voice. He tries to forget and he keeps trying and trying and trying—

But he knows, Baekhyun knows he can _never_ forget him.

How can he?

Baekhyun stops running. He leans against a metal railing, and almost laughs when he realizes just where he is.

The universe can't be anymore unfunny.

He feels overwhelmed with every step he takes. The fallen orange-read leaves crunch at underneath his shoes. His eyes, already burning with unshed tears, graze over the marble headstones that adorn the ground.

He doesn't want to see their names, but he can't stop searching for them either. He doesn't want to see them because he knows he won't be able to help himself.

He keeps searching and searching and almost gives up when finally, he sees them.

Baekhyun's knees give away, landing with a soft thud on the ground. The tears fall on their own as his fingertips trace the letters on the marble. The letters that spell out his world, his universe, the lights of his life.

 

**HERE LIES**

 

**PARK CHANYEOL**

**BORN: NOVEMBER 27 1992**

**DIED: MAY 06 2017**

 

**and**

 

**PARK JINWOO**

**BORN: DECEMBER 02 2011**

**DIED: MAY 06 2017**

 

**_Angels on Earth, now bright stars in the sky_ **

 

\---

 

 _Baekhyun realizes too late that he's burned his own cake._ Goddammit _, he curses internally—a habit he developed after having raised a child for six years._

 _He grabs his oven mitts and hastily pulls the browned vanilla cake from within the steaming oven._ Fuck _, he curses again. Thank god they uninstalled the smoke alarms, or else his party would've ended in a disaster._

_Kyungsoo chuckles beside him. “And this is why you should leave the cooking to Chanyeol.”_

_Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “Shut up, Soo. I just wanted to make up to him.”_

_“What happened?”_

_“You know how he's been busy with producing...and you know how I get when he's like that. It doesn't help that he's halfway across the world and he brought Jinwoo along with him. We got into an ugly fight on the phone the other night,” Baekhyun angrily throws the oven mitts on the kitchen counter. “Worse, I think Jinwoo overheard all of it.”_

_Kyungsoo hums thoughtfully. “Yeah, that's pretty shitty.”_

_Baekhyun runs a hand through his hair. “I've raised him the best I can, Soo, and it still like it isn't enough. He probably thinks I'm an awful person for shouting at his daddy.”_

_“Look, Baek, no one is ever going to master parenting,” Kyungsoo says bluntly. “There is no manual, no guide, no checklist on how raising a kid works. But if it's all worth it to you, I think you're doing a spectacular job.”_

_Baekhyun sighs, a small smile gracing his lips. “Thank you for that. I think you'll be a good parent too.”_

_At this, Kyungsoo smiles back, one hand absentmindedly rubbing on his still-flat stomach. “Maybe someday, uncle. Not today, though.”_

_“Oh, come on!” Baekhyun swats at the other's arm. “Jongin's practically begging to become a baby daddy.”_

_“Then let him beg, I don't care,” Kyungsoo sips on his red wine. “Why don't we fix this cake, hmm? Your two boys are finally coming home tomorrow—we wouldn't want them to die of food poisoning.”_

_“Don't act as if you haven't burnt a cake before, Do Kyungsoo.”_

_“I haven't, though, have I?”_

_“Fudge you.”_

_“Ooh, threatening.”_

_The two men laugh at each other and begin to fix the cake Baekhyun ruined when suddenly the front door opens, and an anxious-looking Jongin rushes in, who unwraps his scarf and grabs the remote to turn on the television._

_Baekhyun and Kyungsoo look at each other, concerned. Neither say a thing. The air is heavy with tension and suddenly Baekhyun can't breathe very well._

_“Baby, what—?” Kyungsoo starts, but stops when Jongin turns around, frantic in his movements._

_“I—fuck—something's—” Jongin inhales sharply. His hands are shaking. “Something's wrong, I don't know—”_

_“Jongin?”_

_But the tall man is silent, anxiously surfing through the channels until he lands on a news channel and something is definitely not right, Baekhyun thinks, as he watches Jongin's eyes widen with realization, almost dropping the remote._

_Baekhyun tries to zero in on what the news anchor is saying in front of him, but his mind is buzzing with so much anxiety that he can't understand a thing, other than picking up a few words here and there._

_“...car crash...24th street...from airport...two victims...male victim yet to be identified...child announced dead on arrival…”_

_It takes all of Baekhyun's willpower not to break down. His heart is only a few pumps away from crashing onto the floor. He wants to cry and yet nothing comes out._

_“Wait—” Baekhyun chokes on his tears. “That can't—it's not them, right? It can't be them!” He turns to Kyungsoo, who has shock written all over his face. “They—they said they'll be home tomorrow. Soo, tell me they're coming home tomorrow.”_

_But Kyungsoo, of course, can't say that. Not when they see the names roll on the screen. The bodies have been identified, and Baekhyun's body freezes all over when the cold, harsh reality slaps him in the face._

_Park Chanyeol, male, 26 years old._

_Park Jinwoo, male, 6 years old._

_Baekhyun—poor, poor Baekhyun—lets out a wail, full of anguish, full of hurt. He screams as he shakes his head in denial, because fuck everything, he'd rather die than let this be his reality._

_He screams as his heart is torn into twos and then fours and then shredded into billions of pieces. He screams as he drops to his knees, his chest aching with every sob, every “no!” he yells into the air, hoping that by some divine intervention this is all just an ugly nightmare._

_Two pairs of arms engulf him in a hug, and Baekhyun immediately knows that both Jongin and Kyungsoo are crying at the sight of him, and with him._

_The loss—the pain—is too much._

_What makes it worse is he lost not one, but two of the lights of his life. He just lost the chance to become an even better partner, a better father._

_And it's all his fault._

_Not the driver who was too drunk to see that he'd been driving on the wrong of the road, ultimately causing Chanyeol's car to derail and hit a tree. Especially not Chanyeol, who changed both his and Jinwoo's tickets at the last minute to coincide with Baekhyun's birthday. Certainly not little Jinwoo, sweet Jinwoo, who suggested surprising his appa in the first place._

_It was all Baekhyun's fault that he cost the world two angels that day._

_It was all on him._

 

_\---_

 

He's been sitting there for at least two hours now, eyes still closed, reliving the painful memory of finding out that both his husband and son were forever lost to him.

His throat aches. He has so much to say.

When he opens his eyes, the sky is painted with orange hues and pinks and purples. He notices that the breeze has caught up to him. He shivers slightly. He looks down again at the marble stones in front of him, lovingly caressing the smooth texture as he weeps, silently, still mourning the loss of his angels.

“I'm so sorry” he begins. His eyes fixate on Chanyeol's engraved name. “I'm so sorry I argued with you that night. I knew you were busy...and yet I acted like a child, anyway…I should’ve tried to be the better person...I should have tried harder…” He sniffles. “I'm so fucking sorry my last words to you were of anger, baby, believe me when I say that if I could take it all back, I would, I really fucking would, I'd do it in a _heartbeat_... I miss you every day.

“And I'm sorry that I haven't been trying enough, that I haven't even tried at all, to feel better. To be better.” Baekhyun lets in a shaky breath. His lungs seemed to have forgotten how to breathe.

He looks at Jinwoo's engraved name and it takes _all_ of his strength not to break down again. “Oh, baby. My sweet, sweet boy.” He lets out a painful sob. “You were the best gift I've ever received, in all my years of living, there isn't one day that goes by where I don't thank the heavens for giving me such a sweet boy to love, to adore, to call my own...no matter how brief our time together was...you were and still are the greatest gift of my life.

“I'm so sorry for not being the best father,” Baekhyun cries even harder at the memory of his perfect boy's face, and he cries again when he realizes that there wouldn't be another face like that in this lifetime. “I'm so sorry I wasn't enough. I miss you both so much, you have no idea.”

He falls silent for a while, attacked by hiccups from all his crying. He uses his shirt to wipe away the snot and tears on his face. He feels only a tad bit better, having released all the pent-up emotion that accumulated in his chest after a year.

He looks upward, admiring the pastel hues that adorn the sky above him. It fills his soul with an otherworldly calm.

Baekhyun realizes that Kyungsoo's probably sick with worry for him right now, but he can't bring himself to care. He's with his family now, and he can't allow himself to think of anything else except to make up for all the lost time.

He falls silent after a while. Then he gathers up all the courage in his chest, and does what he should've done two years ago. 

“I...I can't say I'll get better soon,” he says, voice quiet, but with a determination in it.“But I _can_ say I will be, someday. I will try for the both of you,” he smiles weakly at the gravestone in front of him.

“I love you, the both of you, so much,” he whispers. “I hope you've forgiven me...and I hope I'll forgive myself, too.”

 


	5. With a shuddering sigh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chanyeol works too hard, and flying hormones are a real thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI!!!!
> 
> sorry it's been so long. life got in the way. 
> 
> hope you enjoy this chapter!!!! more on the way ヾ(¯∇￣๑)

“That is  _ not  _ your third cup of coffee tonight,” Baekhyun's tone is close to berating, and it reminds Chanyeol so much of his mother that despite his stress and his over twelve hours of sitting in front of his laptop, he wants to double over and laugh in hysteria. 

He's close though. The stress just outweighs everything. He stops his assignment—transcribing a client's file to text for better documentation—to flex the joints in his fingers, wincing as they pop one by one from hours and hours of continuous typing. He tries to stifle a yawn, ultimately fails, and removes his glasses. Because as much as he needs them to see, they give him one hell of a headache. 

Just then he feels slender fingers apply pressure at his temples. Feels lips leaving featherlight kisses on the crown of his head. Feels the warmth of his husband's chest, and he feels the lively heartbeat of their child inside him. (Although you can't possibly hear a baby's heartbeat from outside the womb; Chanyeol just likes to imagine.)

“Hmm,” Chanyeol hums appreciatively. He leans his head backwards, colliding softly against his husband’s small bump, and enjoys the view. “Hi, Baek.”

At this simple greeting, Baekhyun just frowns disapprovingly. He lightly smacks Chanyeol square on the face, not forgetting to laugh a little bit at the small sound of indignation that the other lets out. 

“Ow, babe,” Chanyeol whines, rubbing his nose and contorting his features as if in pain. “That really hurt, you know.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes and walks towards the fridge. “Yeah, that's what you get,” he opens the refrigerator, reaches inside it, and pulls out a tub of pistachio ice cream, closing it with a slam. Then he grabs a spoon, opens the tub, and begins shoving big chunks of cold cream inside his mouth that Chanyeol is moderately afraid he'll choke.

Instead, Chanyeol raises an eyebrow. “What have I done now?”

It takes Baekhyun a few seconds to reply, busy consuming ice cream and trying to melt it inside his mouth just enough so he could verbalize a coherent sentence. “You've done the most despicable crime, husband,” he says gravely, pinning him with a look and pointing a spoon at hin menacingly.

Chanyeol's heart rate picks up because a) there is  _ nothing  _ more cuter than Baekhyun acting all tough when he's past four months pregnant, waving his spoon like it's a deadly weapon, and b) he gets chills, butterflies, goosebumps, whatever the hell whenever he hears Baekhyun refer to him as  _ husband. _ Even after almost three years, it just never gets old. 

He loves him even more now, so he indulges him. “And what, pray tell, is that?”

Baekhyun sighs, setting aside his ice cream. He crosses his arms across his chest, something that isn't difficult to do  _ yet  _ since Baby Baek barely juts out. “You're guilty of not giving your husband attention, is what it is! Your husband who, may I add, is heavily pregnant with a child  _ you put in him! _ ”

Chanyeol stands up, rolling his eyes playfully. He strides up easily in front him, gently rubbing his elbows in a comforting manner, hoping to lessen some of his petty anger. “You're barely heavily pregnant, babe. Baby Baek isn't even the size of a watermelon yet.” He chuckles when his husband greets him with yet another glare. “Okay, two watermelons, then.”

Baekhyun playfully smacks Chanyeol's arm. “Shut up, you majestically fit giant. You ought to be more kind to me, I  _ am  _ pregnant after all.”

Chanyeol cocks an eyebrow, wanting to tease his husband more. “How sure are you that Baby Baek's mine?”

“Oh, god, why did I marry you.”

Chanyeol bursts out laughing. “Because, you love me. And you want to spend the rest of your life with me. And you want to make a family with me. And because you're you and I'm me.”

“The last one doesn't really make any sense.”

“Does it have to?”

Baekhyun rests his head against Chanyeol's sturdy chest and locks his arms around him. He takes a deep breath before finally letting out the weight of worry that has been crushing him since forever. “I wish you wouldn't work too hard, Yeollie. You're gone all day, we never get to  _ be  _ together except during dinner and bath time, and you almost never sleep. When you do, you're passed out on the couch,” Chanyeol hears him sniffle, “when you're supposed to be asleep next to me.”

Chanyeol's heart breaks at his small husband's confession. He knows, God, he knows he's been overcompensating at work. He's been pushing himself, exerting his one hundred percent, just to prove himself to his bosses that he can handle the extra work, that he's responsible enough to be promoted, to get that extra money. 

They can get by easily with the paycheck he has currently, but who knows until  _ when.  _ All Chanyeol's been doing is planning for the future, doing what's best for them, their family, giving them what they deserve. 

Damn, if he could give them the moon and stars he'd fucking do it in a heartbeat. Anything for Baekhyun and the miracle they share. 

He's been so caught up trying to fulfil the breadwinner archetype that he's indirectly neglecting Baekhyun's needs—and he feels so much like shit because this is the exact thing he'd promised himself he would never become. 

And he's slowly becoming just like it. Just like his father.

Chanyeol's heart breaks even further when he hears another sniffle, another whimper, so he gently lifts his beloved's chin, wanting to gaze into those eyes, the ones he lost himself in back then, the same ones he finds himself in now. 

“God, Baek,” he begins, a low mumble under his breath. “I'm so sorry. I've been neglecting you, something I told myself I would never do.”

“But I understand though!” Baekhyun hurries to clarify. “I understand...why you work extra hard. It's because this pregnancy isn't exactly safe, and it could go wrong,” Baekhyun worries his lip, “and you're just...going all out, doing your best, trying to get that promotion. Because the future is so uncertain.”

Chanyeol's heart squeezes at his husband's natural inclination to always understand, to empathize, to care. “You're always right,” he smiles, then frowns. “It was still so wrong of me—”

“Shut up, Yeol, you were just planning ahead,” Baekhyun interrupts him. “Plus, it's just the...hormones flying around. They're messing up my brain. And other parts.”

“Other parts, huh?” Chanyeol smirks this time, hands sliding down the sides of Baekhyun's body. Slow, like a lava flow, enticing enough to cause shivers ripple on his husband. 

Pregnancy pro: increased sensitivity. Pregnancy cons: increased sensitivity.

Chanyeol spoke too sooner.

“Don't even think about it, Park,” Baekhyun squints at him like an  _ ahjumma  _ and points a finger at his chest. “I see the shitload of paperwork you have over there, which leads me to assume you'll be wanting to finish them sooner, so you'll just be leaving me high and dry and that's a  _ cruel  _ thing to do to a pregnant man with flying hormones.”

_ Ah, _ Chanyeol thinks,  _ this baby better be worth dealing with a moody teenager 24/7 _ .

“You're always right, babe. But tonight you're wrong,” Chanyeol's voice has dropped an octave lower and he smirks again at the sight of his husband's soft, parted lips, clearly affected by the change of his voice. “I'm a good, strong, hard-working man. I can always finish them later.”

In front of him, Baekhyun tries to suppress a shudder, opting instead to close his eyes shut when Chanyeol leans in to his ear, gently nibbling on the soft lobe. 

“What I  _ can _ finish, though, is standing right before me,” Chanyeol doesn't bother to hide the thick lust in his voice as his nips behind Baekhyun's ear, licks at a spot below his jaw, along his jugular, down to the junction between his soft neck and wide shoulders. 

Baekhyun, Chanyeol can tell, was weakening bit by bit, bite by bite, lick by kiss by suck. He feels the smaller's knees buckle at a particularly hard suck, hard enough to leave a mark the next morning.

“We...we haven't...even started yet,” Baekhyun breathes out, mind overpowered by desire and lust and adoration and love and  _ lust again because goddamn his husband can leave a good hickey. _

A deep chuckle rumbles inside Chanyeol's chest. Baekhyun, with wide palms on either of his husband's side, can feel it vibrate and feels impossibly turned on at the mere imagination of what will happen next.

Chanyeol continues with his ministrations, driving Baekhyun into a mess. “Haven't started yet?” His hot breath fans against the pale skin of Baekhyun's throat, and he shudders again at the sensation. Chanyeol audibly laughd at his reaction. “Doesn't seem like that to me, babe. Look at you,” he licks his lips. “You're already a mess.”

Baekhyun groans this time, loudly, like always when he hears how raspy, how deep, how raw his husband's voice is, especially like this. Especially so close to him, near him, he can't wait to kiss the noises out of him. 

Baekhyun places his hand on the back of Chanyeol's neck, and with half-lidded eyes he says, with much conviction for a horny  _ pregnant _ man with flying hormones, “Then hurry up and finish me, Park.”

Chanyeol's eyes switch to an even darker shade, and he grunts as he bends his knees slightly and places both his hands on either of the back of his husband's thighs, hoisting him up so he straddles his waist. 

He softly unravels Baekhyun's sanity with just his mouth, perfectly molded across his, eager to please to other with a playful lick. Baekhyun moans now, and thank God Chanyeol got a grip on himself and didn't trip because Baekhyun's moans were just  _ sinful. _

Chanyeol reaches their bedroom and plops them down the bed, still locking lips and exchanging moans until they're bursting with so much desire, it's powerful enough to light the whole damn city. 

He's pushed away though, after a few seconds, so he takes the moment to enjoy the wonderful view that is a flustered Baekhyun, with red parted lips, lust in his eyes and pink tinting his cheeks. 

Both completely and utterly knocked out from how intense that kiss had been, and they can't help but giggle at how quickly their lust passed by, like a strong gust of air.

“I guess,” Baekhyun stifles a giggle, “it's got to do with the time. It's like midnight!”

Chanyeol shakes his head, tenderly brushing the smaller's hair with his fingers. “I don't think so. The time of the day didn't stop us from conceiving Baby Baek,” he reminds him. “I think we're both tired, babe.”

“Or just too old,” Baekhyun pauses, then nods. “Then I guess….cuddles instead?”

A fond smile paints itself Chanyeol's lips before he captures his husband's lips with his own, soft and gentle and love bursting through every inch of his body. 

Then suddenly, feels something wet stain the apples of his cheeks. Worried, he breaks away from the kiss, only to find that  _ yes _ of course Baekhyun is crying again. 

“Babe, why?”

“I told you! Flying hormones!” Baekhyun outright sobs now, tears sprouting even faster than Chanyeol could prepare for. He's quick to wipe them away. It takes a moment for Baekhyun to calm down, already a pouting mess as he eventually stops. “I just...I felt how much you love me, Yeol,” he whispers, frighteningly vulnerable.

Chanyeol lies down beside him, snuggles closer to him. Makes sure he feels  _ exactly  _ how much he loves him, how much he adores him. How he'll never get tired of loving him. 

He wraps his arm around his small husband, careful to engulf the small bump in a half hug, too. 

And it is then, as they're about to drift off to sleep, that Chanyeol whispers  **_with a shuddering sigh,_ ** “I love you.”

\----  
  


Sometime later, though, Chanyeol is roused awake by an even groggier Baekhyun.

“What? Is it the baby?” Chanyeol worriedly asks.

“No, Yeollie,” Baekhyun yawns, then looks at him seriously, a pout gracing his lips. “The ice cream. I forgot to put it back.”

Chanyeol's brain takes a few silent moments to process what his husband just said, then he laughs, eyes crinkling with amusement and fondness. 

“Don't laugh, you jackass,” Baekhyun whines. “That was my favorite flavor.”

Chanyeol gives him a loud smack on the lips, eyes already shutting themselves again, still to tired to do anything. “I'll buy you a whole shelf of 'em later, babe. Now go back to sleep. You need to rest."

Baekhyun blinks, sighs, and then relents, resuming his place snuggling close to his warm husband. "If you won't do it for me, do it for Baby Baek, at least.”

Chanyeol smiles, one foot in dreamland, close to drifting off, and the other still grounded in the soft smell of strawberries and pistachios and  _home_ beside him.

**Author's Note:**

> please hmu on twitter! i made a new account just for writing purposes, pls be my friend (๑¯ω¯๑) @subaekkiss


End file.
